


Thanatology

by en passant (corinthian)



Category: olimpos
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinthian/pseuds/en%20passant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The study of death and a brief discussion on the things Apollo wants (loves?).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanatology

  
  
  
_Thanatology_   
  
  


> To fear death, my friends, is only to think ourselves wise, without being wise: for it is to think that we know what we do not know. For anything that men can tell, death may be the greatest good that can happen to them: but they fear it as if they knew quite well that it was the greatest of evils. And what is this but that shameful ignorance of thinking that we know what we do not know?

  


Socrates

For a long while Apollo was not aware that humans died. The world that mattered, the one which was beautiful and whole, that world only needed one axis. ( Of course he knew that humans could die, that they did die that they called up to him and expected him to pass his radiance down to them in packages called blessings. ) He was unfamiliar with Death, because in the world that mattered everything was now, perpetual and glowing. Everything needed the sun to live.

He met the girl, Iris, because Poseidon was stupid. He watched her because she was interesting. There was an enthusiasm to her movements, a decided beginning and end to her day. He wondered if all life was like that -- things other than the gods -- if they all moved forward because . . . he didn't know the answer to that. Because. . . he tried to say many different things. Because they are hungry, because they are sad, because they pray. He was not allowed to say any of them. He asked Artemis, but she did not know either. Because . . . I don't know, Apollo. She said, and she smiled as she always did.

As she always did. Apollo turned that over in his head. His sister, like him did not move forward. Because . . . they were gods, he thought, but did not want to say it out loud. If he tried to say that and it was wrong he didn't know what he would do. So, instead, he tried the reverse. Humans do that because they are human, he said out loud. He heard the words, and felt their meaning, and it made him angry.

Apollo dropped one of the temples into the sea. He boiled the low waters and watched the fish flop on the sand. He watched the humans run around and pray and make noise and ask what have they done. He didn't answer them, because he didn't see any point to it. Poseidon will, though. Poseidon will feel the heat seeping through the ocean and rise up, and maybe help them.

Ah. Poseidon's an idiot. Apollo says, out loud, to the ocean and the shore and the small people running around screaming. Ah. This is how they are, because they are human.

He meets death before he learns about death. Hades shows himself, slinks in wearing darkness and the underworld. Apollo knows ( and knows because he tried to say it ) that Hades is stronger than him. He knows that gods do not lie. But there is Hades who speaks words that Apollo does not understand. There is Hades who frightens the mortal Iris, the one girl Apollo has begun to like. And there is Hades, who turns his face to the side and looks like Artemis.

The girl, Iris, was deluded. Apollo didn't understand her, but she was interesting. Her stories were stupid, but she was determined. She believed that the gods would help her and she believed that her role of a sacrifice was important. She also thought that he ate like a pig, and had many lovers, and could make music. To the last one, he said: I don't know, I haven't tried.

I'll bring you an instrument! He could have just made one, maybe. He was a god, after all, but he let her go. Her excitement carried her out of the temple and to the nearby town. Half the day was gone before she returned with a stringed thing and a reed. Here, she said, I hope these are to your satisfaction, Lord Apollo. He tried the pipe ( this I am not very good at ) it squeaked and broke under his hands ( because he twisted it ) and Iris squeaked and hid her eyes. He threw it away and tried the lyre.

I knew it! You're the god of music, too. Iris said when he made the lyre sing. It was unfamiliar in his hands, but he knew it would sound good. After she fell asleep he took the instrument to his sister. She sat beneath the tree and watched him with vacant eyes and when he was done playing she applauded politely. Then she waited for him to speak. He asked if she liked it. She said she liked everything he did. I bet you play better than I do, Apollo put the instrument in her hands. She did not play it.

Humans are creatures who grieve. They weep for their dead and they bury them and remember them. Apollo does not weep when Iris dies. He does not know what it is to grieve. He knows that the temple is no longer interesting, so he abandons it. He tells Poseidon that sacrifices are annoying and bothersome and then they go away and it becomes boring again. Poseidon agrees that dead sacrifices aren't very entertaining.

The next time Apollo sees Hades the deathgod is wearing his sister's face. But it's different. The Artemis Apollo sees in Hades isn't a muted reflection, but there's an offputting originality to her face. It makes him scowl and makes him want to wish that he could will the other god out of existence.

Hm. The fly's reflection, does it startle? A ripple in the sound, do you hear her?

And, Artemis-as-Hades speaks first.

At first, Apollo rages. And then he sulks, then he moves closer to Hades. He asks a question and watches Artemis's vacant eyes fill and focus and he hears her voice reply. She says things to him which he would never think. She does not reflect his moods, because she laughs when he is hurt. Her smile has become dark and wide.

I have only ever loved my sister. Apollo says out loud, it is a truth with an exception. A truth which needs an explanation. He hears Hades' familiar laugh -- a smoky imitation of Artemis's -- and shuts his eyes.

Rot calls to rot. Everything moves forward to that end. Form, shape, memory, it's all over your small head isn't it?

Apollo strikes out, but Hades is stronger than him and to hit death is like hitting smoke. Apollo's violence moves through the air and ends itself. Then there is only Apollo's hand over Hades's heart. Then there is only Apollo leaning into the vision of his sister. And then there is only Apollo.

  
He says, just once, to Ganymede: You resemble my sister. But he doesn't mean the moon. The sister in Apollo's mind, now, presses her palm against his chest, laughs, and is gone.


End file.
